Voyager
by mezzogal
Summary: Jem is dead. But death is just the start of another journey as a mysterious man hijacks his death and sends him on an adventure that will test him to the depths of his soul. Possible disturbing scenes of death and death rituals.
1. Jem

**_Author's Note: _**

_Hi all! Thanks for taking the time to read my story. I hope you will enjoy it. Please review too. I like to hear your thoughts. (Nice ones, preferably.)_

_I will try and post a new chapter every other day. :)_

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_Now finale to the shore  
Now land and life, finale and farewell  
Now voyager, depart  
Much, much for thee is yet in store  
- Walt Whitman_

**_1. Jem_**

_Tuesday, October 23, 1877_

Jem sighed as he pulled his sword out of the demon. He could feel his joints starting to ache – the first sign of withdrawal from the yin fen. He hated being weakened by it. He was a Shadowhunter; he was meant to be stronger than this. He always pretended that he was all right and had come to terms with his illness but in truth, he felt broken and was disgusted at his brokenness. He hid how he truly felt because he did not like people fussing over him.

Jem looked over to see what his best friend Will was up to. He saw that he had already killed his demon and was currently playing with its tentacles, using two long sticks to tie them into knots.

"Will, stop that," Jem said, putting in the requisite sternness that his friend would expect. "The demon is dead. There's no need to…"

Before he could finish his sentence, the two demons dematerialised in a puff, their bodies turning into dust and their energies returning to the demon realms, wherever that may be.

"They're gone," Will announced.

"Yes, I see that," Jem concurred. "We should be getting back. Charlotte would worry. She sent us to buy those herbs ages ago. We said we would be home for dinner."

"She'll understand that we ran into some trouble. Headlong, as a matter of fact," Will said, grinning.

Jem could not help but grin too as he remembered the events of the evening. After the two boys had purchased the herbs, they decided to race each another back to the Institute. Jem was winning as Will had been carrying the parcel. Then Will shouted to Jem to turn the next corner as it was a shortcut back home. Jem believed him, as he always did, and did as he was asked. That was when they crashed full on into the two tentacled demons.

When Shadowhunters crash into demons, neither side asks questions. The two boys immediately whipped out weapons – Will his daggers, Jem his sword-cane – and attacked.

There was nothing extraordinary about the fight, although the tentacles made things a little more complicated. But that, as Will said, was part of the fun of it. What fun would it be to encounter human-shaped demons, after all?

When it was all over, Jem gathered up the bits of herbs that had fallen from the parcel Will threw away when he saw the demons. The parcel itself was covered in ichor which was burning through the brown paper. "These herbs are worthless now," Jem muttered. "What a waste."

Will pulled a face like he could not care less. "Leave them then," he said. He walked over and gave his friend a slap on the shoulder. "I'm too full of energy to go home right now. I think I will go down to the Devil Tavern. I am in need of some mayhem."

"Will…" Jem began but his friend had already bounded off. "Don't start anything!" he called after him, knowing that his friend was already out of earshot. He sighed again. Will was another trial in his life. It was exhausting trying to keep up with him.

Jem picked up a piece of the brown paper that was still clean and carefully wiped his sword with it. When he was satisfied, he cast the paper aside and sheathed his sword.

As he made his way out of the alley, he decided that it would do him some good to go for a walk as well before returning home. The streets of London were quieter at eight o'clock at night and the slight chill in the air soothed his soul.

He wandered down towards his favourite spot, Blackfriars Bridge. The huge and heavy-looking bridge was deserted. Not many people liked to pass it by during their walks. It was, after all, an ugly structure. But that was part of why Jem liked it.

He made his way to the middle where he knew he could climb up on the parapet and sit, overlooking the river. By the time he got there, his limbs were aching badly and the pain in his joints reaching his limits of endurance. He gritted his teeth and forced his mind to concentrate on something else other than the pain. He wanted some more moments of normality, then he would go home and take his medicine.

However, luck was not his side. He had no sooner reached the middle of the bridge than he felt something catch inside his body. A bolt of excruciating pain shot through him, forcing him to his knees and making him double over onto the pavement. His lungs felt as though they were closing up and his heart pounded as though it was about to burst out of his chest. The coughing began, so strong that he could not breathe. He tasted the salty bitterness of blood in his mouth, saw it as it spurted out of him and onto the pavement.

He had bad attacks of illness before but it was never as bad as this. He curled onto his side on the pavement, unable to keep himself upright any longer. It was getting harder for him to draw breath and his surroundings swam before his eyes. Through the haziness, he thought he saw a figure standing under the lamp at the side of the bridge. He tried to raise his arm, but could barely manage to twitch his fingers.

"Help me," he gasped, his voice barely a whisper. "Please, help me."

The figure slowly moved towards him, the person kneeling down beside him and saying something. But Jem heard and saw nothing as he slipped into unconsciousness and the world turned black around him.


	2. Mel

_**Author's note:  
**Thank you guys for all the lovely reviews. I really appreciate it. :) I'll post more often now that I know there are people who are interested.  
Yes, Jem is 16 in this story, and it's before the events of TID. Unfortunately I can't answer most of the questions in the reviews because *spoilers* (as River Song would say). How about another chapter to make up for it?_

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_**2. Mel**_

Jem woke up feeling cold and very stiff. He opened his eyes slowly, blinking as the light coming from the gas lamps that lined Blackfriars Bridge assaulted him. He found himself lying flat on his back on the pavement. He remembered having the worse attack of illness he had ever experienced, which must have accounted for why he was laying here. Groaning, he pulled himself upright and looked around him.

He expected to see the pavement awash in his blood, but there was not a single drop anywhere. His clothes were similarly clean and not even rumpled, which he expected after having rolled around in pain. His dragon-head cane was beside him, as though someone had placed it there.

Jem used his cane as a prop to haul himself back to his feet. He felt surprisingly all right. It was as though that attack had never happened. Feeling confused, Jem turned round and began to make for home.

He had barely taken a few steps when he heard a loud screeching sound and something crashed into him from behind, throwing him face forwards onto the pavement.

He threw out his hands instinctively to brace himself for the fall but it did not help. The heavy weight that had hit him forced him down and knocked the wind out of his lungs. He thought he saw stars in his vision for a second.

"Oh my god! Are you all right, mate?" someone asked. There was a movement and the weight vanished from his back. "I'm so sorry! I dunno what happened."

Jem rolled over, leaning on his elbows, and beheld the most extraordinary sight. It was a girl sitting on the pavement and in a most scandalous state of undress Jem had ever seen.

She looked older than him – perhaps in her early 20s – though she was slightly shorter than he was. She was wearing extremely tight blue denim trousers and knee-high black leather boots that hugged her calves. She wore a thick brown belt, from which hung a brown pouch.

On top, she wore a bright yellow camisole and over that, a curious waistcoat-like garment that looped once around her neck and once around her waist, leaving her back uncovered. An obscene amount of her chest and bosom were bare, causing Jem to blush furiously. If he had been entirely himself, he would have averted his eyes, but as he was in shock, all he could do was gape, open-mouthed.

The girl's appearance was also outlandish. Her hair was straight and hung loose around her shoulders. The top layer blonde, so light that it looked almost white, but appeared purple or blue underneath. And her face! Jem could not spot a single area that was not covered in powder or paint. Her eyes and lashes were rimmed in thick black make-up, there was bronze paint on her cheeks and dark red on her lips.

There were at least five bracelets of various different styles on her left wrist, and a leather strap on her right. Her fingernails were also painted – every nail was a different colour. There was a large ugly scar on her left forearm.

"Hey!" the girl was calling, snapping her fingers in front of his face several times. "You ok, mate?"

"I… I… What?" Jem stammered.

The girl laughed. "You're fine," she decided. She reached out, touched his jaw and gently nudged his mouth shut. "You'll be catching flies, mate. Not something you wanna do, mind. Though they do say insects are pure protein, so eating them does have its benefits. I saw that once on the telly. Disgusting what some people'll put in their mouths. I'm Mel, by the way. What do they call you?"

It took several seconds for Jem to process that speech and realise there was a question that he was required to answer. "I'm Jem," he said.

"Nice to meet you, Jem," Mel said. "Now, are you done staring? Christ, it's as if you've never seen a girl before. I said I was sorry for crashing into you like that. Dunno what happened. I was just walking along and boom, I was here. I've never seen this place so quiet before. Did I black out or something? Where did everybody go?"

Jem muttered something about it always being this empty on the bridge but the girl wasn't listening. She had bounded to her feet and picked up Jem's cane. "This yours, mate? Fancy piece it is," she commented as she handed it over to him. "Need a hand?" she offered, holding out her hand to him. Jem took it and she pulled him up.

"Thank you very much, Miss Mel," Jem said, remembering his manners as he regained his footing.

"Just Mel. And it's nothing. I did knock you over. I'm obligated to help you to your feet," Mel said. "Well, you look like you're all right; nothing broken. So, I'll just go now then. See ya around, Jem."

She turned and began to walk off in the opposite direction. "Mel!" Jem called. She stopped and waited as Jem strode up. "Let me escort you home. It's late and the streets are not safe for a lady," he offered.

Mel laughed. "And they say chivalry is dead. When are you from, Jem? The Victorian era? It's perfectly safe. I'll just catch the Tube back home. No need to worry your posh little self."

"I'm not posh," Jem protested.

"No? Could've fooled me. The fancy suit, the jade cane, the accent – you could cut glass with that accent," Mel pointed out. "Go on then, admit it, you playing hooky from one of those fancy public schools?"

"You're impossible," Jem said, exasperated. "I don't believe I've ever met a lady quite like you before."

"I ain't no lady," Mel declared. "Ain't gonna catch me having tea and scones out of those little teacups." She mimed drinking tea with her little finger sticking up in the air, affecting an air of poshness. Seeing that Jem was not reacting other than to stare at her in amused horror, she gave a cheery wave and skipped off.

Before she could take more than a few steps, a man appeared and blocked her path. "I'm sorry. But you are not going anywhere, young lady," he said.


	3. Bilis

_**3. Bilis**_

Mel's body language showed she was not at all amused that she was being prevented from leaving. "Look here, mate," she said sternly to the man. "I don't know who you are, and I don't care to know, but you better let me pass right now."

The man said nothing. He stepped forward and gripped her arm. "Oi! Let go of me!" Mel screamed, kicking him hard on the shins. The man did not react but merely dragged her back to the centre of the bridge. She violently protested and cursed like a sailor the whole way.

Jem had rushed forward when he saw the man grab Mel but the man calmly said: "I would not do anything if I were you, young man." An inflection in the man's voice was enough to stop Jem in his tracks.

The man deposited Mel next to Jem. Mel looked furious, like a little wildcat ready to strike. Jem took a step forward, whether to block the man from Mel or vice versa, he was not sure.

Up close, Jem saw that the man was old. He had silver hair that he slicked back to reveal a high forehead. He wore a dark grey suit, powder blue shirt and red cravat. He was very thin, but had demonstrated that he possessed great strength.

"Who are you, sir? What do you want with the girl?" Jem asked.

"My name is Bilis Manger," the man said in a soft whispery voice. "And it's not just Mel that I want, but you too, Jem."

"How do you know my name?" Jem demanded. "Are you a demon?"

"I know all about you, young Shadowhunter," Bilis answered. He sounded amused. "I am not a demon. In fact, I am a servant of the Light who seeks to destroy demons. You see; I am on your side."

"Yeah, and I'm the Queen of Sheba," Mel snapped.

Bilis turned to Mel and put a finger to his lips. "Be silent, girl. I will explain myself soon enough," he said. He muttered something to himself that sounded like "children these days".

Jem was inclined to agree with Mel. He did not trust Bilis, did not trust the eerie way his eyes seemed to bore through him or the unnatural stillness with which he held himself. He tightened his grip on his cane, ready to draw the sword if need be.

"Perhaps if you could elucidate yourself expediently, the lady would not feel the compulsion towards violence," Jem suggested. "I, myself, grow weary of you."

"I expected you, Jem, to have more patience, but I suppose I misjudged," Bilis said, sounding disappointed. "However, I shall not delay further. I have a task for which I believe the both of you can help me accomplish. It is fairly simple. If you would follow me, I will show you."

"Why would we go anywhere with you, sir?" Jem asked. "You have not proven yourself to be worthy of our trust."

Bilis laughed, a chilling chuckle, and suddenly the bridge had vanished. Jem found himself standing with Mel and the man in a large antechamber. The floor was of polished wood and pillars of smooth brown stone lined the walls. At the far end of the chamber was a large brown door. In the middle of the room was a huge slab of solid wood, fashioned like an altar. There were no adornments or any decoration placed on it, but Jem sensed that there was great power in this altar. It looked like it had been there since the dawn of time and would remain there until the end of all things.

The old man stood beside the altar and gestured at it, wanting Jem and Mel to come close and look. When they did so, Jem saw that there was a round indentation right in the middle of the wood, like a bowl was meant to rest there.

"Many centuries ago, there was a great battle between the Dark and the Light. The Light was imprisoned, allowing the Darkness and all its creatures to have dominion on the earth. I know the Shadowhunters protect the world from it, but even you Shadowhunters must know that you cannot hold back the tide forever. You need an ally.

"The Light is such an ally. In the centuries of its imprisonment, it has gathered strength, and it is ready to renew the fight against the Dark. It has been sending out tendrils and reaching out to find those who will fight with it. I am one of its servants. It falls to me to free the Light from its cage so that it can do battle and win.

"However, it seems I have reached the end of my service. While I have found the gateway, I cannot retrieve the key to the prison," Bilis gestured to the indentation in the altar again. "Fortunately, you can."

Jem kept silent, thinking through this. He knew about the battle between good and evil; it was in his blood. But he knew nothing about an ancient battle between Light and Dark. All his instincts told him not to trust this man and that no good could come of cooperating with him.

"How are we to help you? We know nothing about your quest or this battle you speak of," Jem said.

"You must pass through that door," Bilis gestured at the door. "And go on a journey. The key will be made known to you and you must bring it back here and place it on the altar. I'm afraid it will not be an easy journey; you will be tested. However, I am confident you will be able to meet the challenges posed."

Mel made up her mind first. "Sorry, I'm not in the habit of getting involved with creepy old men who assault me, kidnap me then expect me to take part in some kind of supernatural quest," she said.

"You have no idea for how long I have searched to find the two of you. You will go," Bilis said. "I chose you and then I called you from across the ages."

"What the hell do you mean, 'called'? I've never seen you in my life!" Mel protested.

"No, my dear, not in life," Bilis agreed.

"But if not in life…" Jem was reaching a nasty conclusion that he did not like. "Do you mean…?"

Bilis smiled sinisterly. "Yes, Jem, I mean in death."

Jem turned pale at that pronouncement. "You mean, she's dead?" he asked in horror, turning to stare at Mel again. She was shocked into silence. "And I… I'm dead too?" he stammered.

"Yes," Bilis confirmed. "I am so sorry. But it had to happen. You see, to embark on this journey, one must first have left the mortal world behind."

Mel turned pale, her pallor showing even through the layers of paint. "I'm not dead," she whispered. "I can't be." She looked at Jem with the sad hopeful expression of a confused kitten.

Jem knew her to be so energetic and full of life. How could she be dead? "He must be wrong," he told her. "Mr Manger, you must be mistaken," he said.

"No mistake," Bilis said softly. "As I said, I had searched long and hard to find you. And you will not let me down." At that, he disappeared in a blink leaving Jem and Mel alone to digest this information.

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_**Author's Note:**_

_**I'm very glad you guys like Mel. Hope you continue to like her as the story progresses. ;)  
**_

_**I was inspired to write this story after seeing various pictures on the Internet. I would like for you guys to be able to see them too and have images to bring the story to life for you. Unfortunately, this site apparently does not allow people to post URLS. So I want to try it this way. I'll put down an address as though I'm reading it out to you and you type it into your address bar with no spaces. For example, this site would be: fan fiction dot net. Get it?**_

_**Let's try with just one link for now (no spaces) and let me know if it's ok. Here it is, a picture of Bilis Manger for those of you who have not seen him before in Torchwood (seriously, go watch it if you haven't. Good stuff.): tiny url dot com slash bilis manger** _


	4. After Life

_**4. After Life**_

Mel's composure crumbled once Bilis disappeared. She dropped down to her knees and hung her head. Her shoulders shook and Jem knew she was crying. He did not know how to comfort her. He was used to the idea that he would die young – Shadowhunters never had long lives, and his yin fen addiction had been a sword over his head for years. Now that he was actually dead, he did not know how to react. He supposed he should feel devastated like Mel, but he felt nothing.

Jem knelt next to Mel and put a hand on her back to comfort her. She shrugged away from him and moved to lean against one of the pillars, hugging her knees and hiding her face in them.

"Mel…" Jem began, trying to find the words to say to console her. But the words did not come. So he just sat quietly next to her.

Eventually, he heard her stop crying, though she still hid her face from him. "You know what's the worst, Jem?" she suddenly asked, her voice muffled. "I died on fucking Blackfriars Bridge. On a bloody bridge, surrounded by strangers. It's so messed up."

"If it's any comfort, I think I died there too," Jem said. That made her look up at him. Her tears had caused her eye make-up to run down her cheeks and looked like dried tears of blood.

"How?" she asked.

Jem hesitated. He usually did not discuss his illness with anyone. But he was dead. What was the point of keeping it a secret? So he told her about it all – the yin fen, the poison that ran through his veins, the attacks and the final one on the bridge. As he did so, he pulled out his handkerchief and gently wiped her face with it. By the time he finished his story, he had wiped off all of her make-up, revealing a girl who looked even younger and more innocent than he had thought.

"How about you?" Jem asked. "If you don't mind my asking, that is."

Mel sat up and squared her shoulders. "I've been epileptic since I was a kid," she said. "I must've had a seizure. The last thing I remember is crossing the road at Blackfriars Bridge. I remember there was a small gap in the traffic and I thought I could make it across. But then everything went hazy and there was a bright light. Then a car must have hit me and I found myself crashing into you. Oh god, that must have been when I died."

"I'm so sorry," Jem said quietly.

Mel continued: "I guess I'm like you. I always knew, with these seizures... I just never knew how little time I really had." She laughed, a short ironic laugh and forced her face into a cheerful mask.

"Well, if this is the after life, I can't say I think much of it," she said, sounding more like herself. "I thought there'd be angels and God and my dear departed relatives here to greet me. Not some creepy bloke and a quest to save the world. I thought you're allowed to leave the problems of the world behind once you checked out."

Jem had a slightly different view of how much responsibility the dead had. The bodies of dead Shadowhunters were burned and their ashes used to strengthen the wards that protected the living. "Sometimes we can do more good with our death than with our life," he said. "Look at what Mr Manger said. If it is true, then we could help save those we have left behind."

"Do you believe him?" Mel asked.

Jem shook his head. "I confess, I do not," he admitted. "Everything about him reeks of treachery and secrets. He has not told us everything nor fully explained what he wants of us or why he chose us."

"Maybe cos we both died on the same day, at the same place. That can't just be a coincidence," Mel suggested.

"I highly doubt you were there when I died. I would have noticed you," Jem said.

"What do you mean by that? I stick out? I do not stick out!" Mel said.

"Well, you are dressed rather… um…" Jem faltered as Mel gave him a warning glare. "Differently," he finished lamely. "Don't you feel a little… um… exposed?" he asked, blushing hard.

Mel looked down at her outfit, then at his, and then back at hers again. Jem saw that she was trying to understand what he was saying.

"Oh for Christ's sakes!" she exclaimed, getting to her feet. Jem was perplexed but also jumped up. "Give me your coat," she ordered.

"Pardon?"

"Your coat. Gimme," she repeated.

Jem quickly shrugged off his suit jacket and held it out to her. "What are you doing?" he asked. She did not answer but began to unbutton her waistcoat and undo the pouch strap around her waist. "Mel…" Jem's eyes widened.

"Relax, I'm not taking my shirt off in front of you," Mel said. That did not reassure Jem at all. "Oh, turn your back if you have to," she said, grabbing the jacket from him. Jem immediately spun around. He did not know what she was up to but heard the rustling of fabric. "Seriously, where are you from? I've never met anyone with a problem with tank tops before."

"Ladies don't generally show so much of their… um… bosoms where I'm from," Jem said. "Not that what you're wearing is not lovely. I'm sure it's perfectly suitable in your circles."

"You talk like the Queen, Jem. Did anyone ever tell you that?"

"No. I've never been told that."

"You know, we both died at the same place but I didn't see you there either. You dress funny, talk funny and act funny. You've got that weird stick thing. You can't be much older than I am. Oh my god, it must be like those things on the telly. Time travel. Like, when you're dead, it doesn't matter when you're from or what language you speak. Which year are you from, Jem?" Mel asked. "And you can turn around now. I'm done."

Jem slowly turned. Mel had put on his jacket but, as it was too big for her, had wrapped it around her body kimono style and used her waistcoat and the strap of her pouch as a makeshift belt. She was mostly covered up now, which relieved Jem. "Now you can look at me instead of some point over my head," Mel said cheekily. "So, back to the question. What year are you from? I'm… was… in 2029."

"1877," Jem answered.

"Who's the king?"

"Queen," Jem corrected. "Victoria."

"I knew it!" Mel exclaimed, punching the air. "Victorian era. All the gaslights and fog and stuff. Sherlock Holmes and Jack the Ripper. Do you hang out in Whitechapel? Did you see those murdered prostitutes?"

None of these made any sense to Jem. "I'm just 16," he told her. "I do not frequent brothels."

"Hey, me too. 16 that is. Sorry, I just got excited about it. I like the Victorian era. A whole golden age where everything changed. The Industrial Revolution and…"

Jem interrupted her. "Mel, could we perhaps not talk about this right now? I believe we have other concerns."

"You're perfectly right," Mel agreed. "Like I said, sorry. I tend to talk too much. Just tell me to shut up and I'll get right on it." Jem could not help but smile at her.

He walked over to the door at the far side of the room and examined it. Mel came up and stood beside him. "So, Mr Manger said we had to go through this door to begin the quest," Jem recalled. There were no markings or indications of where the door might lead. "What do you think?"

Mel came and stood beside him. Her hand touched the door, as if to ascertain if it was real. "Well, I, for one, do not want to be stuck in this room for all eternity. We might as well find out what's in store for us."

With that statement, she gave Jem a wink and pushed the door open.


	5. The Ferryman

_**5. The Ferryman**_

The door swung open smoothly and revealed an ocean. Right below them was a huge underwater rift, down which water was rushing as though down a waterfall. The blue water around the rift swirled wildly around forming eddies and whirlpools. The air smelled hot and salty and their faces were splashed by the spray.

"What do we do now?" Mel asked. There was no dry land anywhere in sight and the water extended out as far as the eye could see. "How are we doing this? A bloody big room can't be just floating in mid air over the ocean."

"I don't know," Jem said. "We were told to go through this door to start our journey. But there is no path to follow. Unless…" he paused thoughtfully. "Unless the waterfall is the path. Perhaps we are meant to go straight down. Can you swim, Mel?"

Mel looked alarmed. "Not very well. And definitely not through that," she said. Her tone suggested that she could not swim at all but was loath to admit it.

Jem turned and looked around the room, wondering if there was anything at all that could be used as a flotation device. But apart from the altar, there was nothing of use. Mel seemed to have come to this conclusion too.

"Look, we're gonna have to get a move on. So, let's go," Mel said in a determined voice. "I'll manage. I'm dead anyway; what's the worse that could happen?" She took Jem's hand, startling him with the sudden contact. "Count of three?" Jem nodded. She closed her eyes and counted: "One, two, three!"

At that, the two of them jumped out through the doorway. The fall was farther than Jem thought. He landed with a huge splash and was submerged deeply. In a moment of panic, began to thrash around as the water entered his nose and mouth. The momentum pushed him deeper into the water. His lungs began to burn as he struggled to find which way was up.

It seemed like forever before he managed to calm down enough to remember some swimming skills he had learnt. He let out a short quick breath, releasing a stream of bubbles from his nose. The bubbles would move towards the surface, and he followed, propelling his body upwards with his legs.

Breathing in fresh air had never felt so good. Jem coughed violently when he broke the surface and gulped down the air, treading water so as to stay afloat. He surfaced in a cool green place. It was as though the forest had been engulfed in a flood and the waters had never drained away. Everything was still. Tops of trees poked out of the water at intervals with some low-hanging branches partially submerged.

When Jem recovered, he realised that he was alone; he had let go of Mel's hand when he was underwater.

"Mel!" he shouted. "Mel!"

There was no response. He saw fish breaching the surface, and an otter swam by. It turned to look at him but swam on after deciding he was not a threat.

Jem began to worry. Even though Mel had pointed out that they were already dead, he had not felt so when he was underwater. Instead, it felt like he was alive but dying again. He would not soon forget the unpleasant feeling of running out of oxygen.

He took a deep breath and dived. Opening his eyes underwater, he scanned to see if he could find Mel anywhere. The water was murky and visibility was poor. He saw a dark shape below him and he swam down, but before he could reach it, he ran out of air and had to return to the surface. He was amazed at how deep this swamp was and was disheartened that he could not go any deeper.

But Jem was determined to try again. He inhaled the deepest breath he could and took the plunge. Down and down he went, using all his skill to propel him deeper. The dark shape he saw was close now, in fact, it looked like it was coming towards him instead.

It soon came on a level with him and Jem found himself face to face with a curious manatee. It nudged him gently and backed away. Jem was mesmerised. The huge creature was strangely beautiful. He stretched out his hand to touch it. It extended its flipper as though reaching out to shake hands.

When Jem touched it, the manatee inclined its body upwards and made for the surface. Meanwhile, another manatee had come up under Jem and nudged at his legs, helping to push him up. The ascent was much faster with the two creatures helping.

"Thank you," Jem said when they reached the surface. He rubbed their heads as they emerged alongside him. "I'm looking for my friend, Mel," he said, even though he knew that the creatures could not possibly understand speech. "I don't know where she is. I'm afraid she's drowned."

The manatees gave him a knowledgeable look then disappeared below the surface. A few minutes later, the water's surface began to bubble and Mel's sodden head emerged. The two manatees had nudged her up to the surface as they had done for Jem. Jem quickly grabbed Mel, slipping his arms under hers and locking his hands across her body to stop her from going under again.

"Thank you," Jem said to the manatees. "You have no idea how grateful I am." The manatees nudged him once more then slipped back down into the water.

Jem was sad to see them go. Now that he had Mel back, he felt even worse than before. Her skin was cold and clammy, and she was not breathing. Jem did not know how to resuscitate her when they were both still in the water. It took all of his strength just to hold her head above the water as the weight of her body and both of their soaked clothes threatened to pull them both down again.

"Come on, Mel," Jem pleaded. "You've made it this far. Please, please breathe."

But Mel did not respond and he felt her body getting colder. Surely she had not died. How could she have died? Jem became frightened. What would happen if they died here?

Jem tried to swim. He struggled to the nearest tree, hoping to be able to grab hold of a bough and pull them both up out of the water. But it was a futile attempt. All the tree branches were either too weak to bear their weight, or too high for him to reach without letting go of Mel. And Jem refused to even think about letting go of her again.

Eventually, Jem grew exhausted. He had never been in good shape due to his illness, and now he could barely keep up with treading water. He did not know where else to turn. He forced himself to keep going – he was a Shadowhunter, he reminded himself; Shadowhunters could endure what normal humans could not.

'_But how much longer to hold on_?' his tired mind asked him. '_How long can you keep staring at the horizon, hoping for rescue_?'

"Ten more minutes," he told himself through gritted teeth. "Ten more."

This inner conversation continued for hours. Slowly, painfully, dusk fell. The shadows of the trees began to get darker on the water and a light mist formed.

Unconsciously, Jem began sinking. His strength failed and he went under. He did not know for how long but he came to himself with a jerk and forced himself back above the water. Mel was still in his arms and he hugged her to him, taking scant comfort in her presence.

When he managed to re-establish his position in the water, he saw a break in the mist and ripples in the water. This was surely not a fish or animal. Eventually, a shape appeared. It came closer and Jem saw that it was a boat.

"Ahoy!" he called. "Here! Help!"

The wooden boat silently came up alongside them. There was a lantern attached to the prow. Inside, there was an old man wearing a reddish-brown cloak and hood. His eyes were fiery in the gloom. In his right hand, he held a long pole. He put down this pole and reached down and pulled Mel out of the water first, then Jem.

Once aboard, Jem shook his head to rid himself of the water lingering in his hair and ears. Behind him, Mel groaned. Jem immediately rushed to her. "Mel, are you all right?" he asked.

"What happened? Where are we? Why am I all wet?" she asked groggily.

Before Jem could reply, the ferryman came up to them. He had picked up his pole now with his right hand and his left hand was outstretched. "Pay the fee," he said in a gruff voice.

"I beg your pardon," Jem exclaimed. "I am grateful to you for your help but could you give us a minute?"

The ferryman did not relent. He continued standing there with his left hand outstretched.

"I said…" Jem began but Mel interrupted him.

"Jem, I think I know what this is," she said. "We're dead. This is the ferryman that will send us to the underworld. We have to pay a fee."

She got to her feet, with Jem helping her and holding on to her elbow to steady her. She rummaged through her pouch and drew out a coin – 50 pence. She held it out to the ferryman and dropped it in his hand, her arm shaking, through fear or weakness, Jem did not know. The ferryman closed his hand around it and withdrew it into the darkness of his cloak. Then he stretched out his hand again, in Jem's direction this time.

"What does he want?" Jem asked. The ferryman suddenly brought his pole down and smacked Jem's head with it. He exclaimed in pain and turned to Mel.

"I think he wants you to pay too," Mel said. She rummaged through her pouch again and held out a coin to Jem – 20 pence. "Here, take this and give it to him."

"Mel, I can't take your money," Jem said.

"Oh shut up, Jem. What difference does it make? You can pay me back later if you really want to," Mel replied glaring at him. Jem decided to give in and handed the coin over to the ferryman who accepted it and spirited it away as he did before.

He then went away from them to the back of the boat. With a strong push at his pole, the boat began to move.

* * *

**Author's note:**

**I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. It's a special chapter for me cos it contains the scene that was the starting off point for the whole story. It all started when I visited the Singapore River Safari and experienced this: tiny url dot com slash river manatee (type all that into your address bar without spaces)**  
**Since then, I've had a soft spot for manatees. ;) And I wanted to write something that involved a flooded forest. One thing led to another and Jem and Mel's great adventure was born.**

**Got a few other images to bring this chapter to life: **  
**tiny url dot com slash under fall  
tiny url dot com slash flood forest**


	6. Yanluo

_**6. Yanluo**_

Mel clung to Jem as the boat moved smoothly through the water. The overhanging trees were very menacing now. It felt as though they were passing through a dark tunnel. The only illumination was the small light given off by the lantern at the prow. The air was still and there were no sounds save the lapping of the water as the ferryman pushed his pole along.

Then, they entered a cave and the sound of the water grew louder as it echoed off the rock walls. Inside, the cave was lit up as though by stars, the ceiling covered in specks of little green lights. The light reflected off the water and created dancing patterns on the walls. It was a beautiful sight.

"Through a round aperture, I saw appear some of the beautiful things that Heaven bears, where we came forth and once more saw the stars," Mel suddenly quoted. Her voice reverberated through the cavern even though she did not speak loudly. She then dropped her voice down to a whisper as the boat continued on and the lights disappeared: "But the stars that marked our starting fall away. We must go deeper into greater pain, for it is not permitted that we stay."

"Is that Shakespeare?" Jem asked. "It sounds familiar."

"No. Dante," Mel replied. "Mate of mine dared me to read it a few months ago. Disturbing stuff. That's how I know about... all this."

Eventually, they approached a shore. The boat halted at the edge of the rocky land and the ferryman pointed for them to get off. Jem and Mel obeyed without question and the ferryman pushed off the second they disembarked.

Without the lantern from the boat, the cavern was in complete darkness. Jem reached into his pocket and drew out his witchlight. The pale white light the stone emitted cast a ghostly pallor over everything. Jem took Mel's hand and lead her inwards and away from the water.

There was a rough winding path worn into the rock. Jem did not want to think about who used this path. In fact, he was afraid to think of anything much at all besides putting one foot in front of the other. Beside him, Mel acted nonchalant but was chewing hard on her lower lip.

After walking for a few minutes, the witchlight showed up a figure on the path ahead of them. It was a huge figure that looked vaguely humanoid in shape, though strangely distorted and mutilated.

When they got within earshot, the figure called out: "Welcome, dead people! Welcome to the halls of the damned." That pronouncement was followed by the most diabolical laughter.

Jem stiffened. He knew that voice. He had heard it once before, and many times again in his nightmares. He raised his witchlight to see better and a wave of terror rushed over him. "No, it can't be you," he breathed. "Yanluo."

"We meet again, little Nephilim," the demon greeted sardonically. Jem instinctively drew his sword.

"You're dead," he said, pointing his sword at the demon. "The Shanghai Enclave told me they hunted you down and killed you."

"Jem?" Mel asked. "What is that?"

"It's a demon," Jem said, not taking his eyes off the demon. "It's called Yanluo. It tortured me and killed my parents."

"They deserved it," Yanluo hissed. "They killed my offspring. They hunted me down. And I killed them. My revenge was so exquisitely sweet." It laughed again.

In his mind, Jem could hear his parents' screams, his mother calling his name and begging for mercy. He remembered the excruciating agony as the demon poison flowed through his veins, tearing at his mind. The curse that left him with hallucinations and pain that prevented him from living a full life. A blind rage came over him and he rushed at the demon with his sword.

Yanluo swatted Jem aside as easily as he would swat a fly. Jem flew through the air and hit the wall hard. He held on to his sword but the witchlight fell from his hand, dimming the light.

"What the hell!" Mel shouted. "That's enough. Stop it now. Both of you!"

Jem staggered to his feet. "You don't understand, Mel. I am a Shadowhunter. It is my duty to rid the world of scum like him. More than my duty. This is personal."

"You are no longer in the world, Nephilim," Yanluo informed him. "You're in the underworld now. My realm. Your angel cannot protect you here."

"So kill us then," Jem said, his voice full of suppressed anger, his hand gripping the sword so hard that his knuckles turned white. "What are you waiting for?"

Yanluo scowled, if it was possible for a demon to do so. "I was sent to fetch you."

"By whom?" Jem snapped.

"My masters."

"Meaning what? You're like the butler? Meeting people at the door and bringing them in?" Mel asked. Yanluo looked embarrassed but gave a gesture of agreement.

Jem was floored by this revelation. Yanluo was a high-ranking Greater Demon. What other power could there be that could compel this creature to act as door warden?

"Very well, then. Lead on," Mel said. She picked up the witchlight stone, which glowed brightly in her hand, and strode ahead after Yanluo. Jem sighed and reluctantly followed them both. If this underworld was truly the realm of demons, then he was extremely worried. He had sent many demons here himself and he was certainly apprehensive of meeting them again. Surely more than a few would want their pound of flesh in revenge.

But there was no sign of other demons or anything else as they traversed the path. The place was quiet and the air still. The only sound was their footsteps against the stone. Eventually, they came to a set of large stone doors carved with grotesque figures of demons, writhing humans, flames and roiling water. Yanluo paused before the structure.

"The gates of hell," Mel said. "I always thought I'd see the pearly gates when I died. I never thought I'd be here facing the stony gates."

"More than any of you Nephilim deserve," Yanluo said. "The masters shouldn't waste time on you. You should all be cast straight into the pit to burn for all eternity."

"Be quiet," Jem ordered. "Just take us to your masters."

Yanluo snarled but obeyed. It placed its hands up on the doors. As it did so, a malevolent red light gleamed from between the carvings, causing the doors to glow. It gave a strong push and the doors fell open. "This is as far as I am permitted. Go in." It pointed at the open doorway.

Mel bit her lip, looking at Jem apprehensively. "Come on," he said. With a last angry look at Yanluo, Jem took Mel's hand, gave it an assuring squeeze, and they both stepped through together.

* * *

**Wondering what the cave Jem and Mel passed through looks like? It's based on the Waitomo glow worm cave in New Zealand. See it here: tiny url dot com slash waitomo cave**


	7. Judgement

_**7. Judgement**_

Walking through the doorway, Mel and Jem found themselves in a large hall carved from stone. There were towering pillars holding up the ceiling. In the shadows between these pillars, demons and ghosts milled about. Some snarled at the pair, others followed, pacing with them. Others cried or opened their mouths as though to speak but only a thin wailing came out.

At the end of the hall were three thrones. Upon these thrones, three figures were seated. Their appearance and bearing were like kings. The one on the right bore a sceptre, the one on the left held a set of keys, and the one in the middle wore a diadem. Beside the thrones was a large dog with three heads watching them with gleaming eyes.

"What did Dante say about this?" Jem whispered to Mel as they approached. The anger that had previously buoyed him up as Yanluo led them in was now gone. He was not feeling at all brave now.

"The three judges, I think," Mel replied, her voice shaking. "Aeacus, Rhadamanthus and Minos. They judge the souls of the dead and decide which circle of hell they belong to, depending on their sins. The dog is Cerebus. He makes sure no one escapes."

Jem felt like shaking too as they reached the three thrones. He was seldom intimidated but now he felt small and insignificant. The demons and ghosts they had passed were now gathered all around them, cutting off their path and forcing them to move forward.

Mel squared her shoulders, puffed herself up and stepped forward. "Hello? O great judges of the underworld?" she said. Her voice was unsure at first but grew steadier. Jem saw her hands gripping the edges of his jacket that she wore. Her knuckles were turning white. "We are pleased that you grant us an audience. We…"

"They speak," Rhadamanthus interrupted her.

"They possess words," Aeacus added.

"Their wills are their own," Rhadamanthus observed.

Mel hesitated. Jem stepped up beside her. He brushed the back of his hand against hers, prompting her to take his hand. If she could show bravery like that then he could too, he decided.

"Yes, we speak. We were sent by Bilis Manger to retrieve the key to free the Light. Can you assist us?" he asked.

"James Carstairs," Rhadamanthus said.

"And Melissa Carstairs," Aeacus completed.

"Two persons," Rhadamanthus said.

"And yet one," Aeacus said.

The two judges spoke as though they were one person, completing the other's sentences and thoughts. It greatly unnerved Jem, who was already shocked to hear that Mel shared his last name.

"You come before judgement," Rhadamanthus said.

"Then you will be judged," Aeacus said with finality.

Rhadamanthus and Aeacus stared at Jem and Mel. It seemed as though a wordless discussion was going on between the two judges. Jem would have given anything to know what was going on. Were they considering his sins and faults? How would he be judged? He began to think over his life, wondering if there were things that he could have done better or differently. He grew more nervous with each passing second.

"I am judge of the East," Rhadamanthus suddenly said.

"I am judge of the West," Aeacus said.

"You are neither of the East."

"Nor of the West."

"Not dead."

"But not alive."

"We cannot judge you," Rhadamanthus concluded. The two judges turned their heads to the centre where Minos sat in silence.

Up close, Minos was haughty and dignified, and there was a sense of underlying power around his person. A long and scaly tail, almost snake-like in appearance, lay coiled at his feet.

When the two judges deferred to Minos, the tail began to move back and forth, dancing a dance, the steps of which were fraught with meaning. The demons surrounding them shrank back, their apprehension and fear palpable. The movements quickened to a frenetic pace, the tail blurring. Then all of a sudden, it abruptly stopped.

Minos began to speak. His voice was deep and sounded like it came from the depths of the earth.

"You were sent to free the Light, but the Light cannot be freed," he said.

Jem spoke up: "But surely the Light can be freed. If there is a key…"

"There is a key," Minos said. "You are the key. You are two parts of a whole. But a key must first be shaped…"

"Cut," Rhadamanthus added.

"Ground," Aeacus finished.

"The Light cannot be freed," Minos repeated.

"But if we do not, then the Dark will win. Evil will cover the earth," Jem said. "I have fought many agents of evil."

"As there are agents of evil, so too are there agents of Light," Minos said.

"But how long can they stand?" Jem exclaimed. "Long have the Shadowhunters and our allies protected the earth against demons. If the Light can return and take up the fight again…"

"There is no fight to take up," Minos said. "The fight was over a long time ago. Both Light and Dark fell. Neither was victorious. Think you that the Light is an ally? Terrible deeds are done in the Light as well as in the Dark. If you unleash the Light, then the Darkness will follow. That is the nature of the universe."

"So Bilis lied to us?" Mel asked.

"He is an agent of the Light," Minos answered. "And so we cannot divine what his intentions are. You have come before judgement but you are not yet ours for the judging. Your souls belong to another.

"You ask for our assistance. This is our advice to you: Set aside this quest for it will profit no one but those who formulated it for their own gain."

"Judgement is passed," Rhadamanthus said.

"So be it," Aeacus said.


	8. Hell

_**8. Hell**_

Jem was left non-plussed. "But nothing has been decided," he protested. "This can't be your judgement."

Unfortunately, his words were lost as the horde of demons swarmed around them. He instinctively reached for his sword-cane. But the demons did not seek to harm them but merely crowd them to force them to move back, away from the thrones. The three-headed dog Cerebus brought up the rear.

"Jem, it's time to go," Mel urged, tugging his hand urgently. He reluctantly followed her.

The demons pushed them back to the heavy stone gates where Yanluo was outside waiting for them. He led them through the rock-hewn caverns, where demons and souls of the damned watched as they passed. The surroundings grew colder as they went deeper in. Frost, and eventually ice, was seen clinging from the rock and a bitterly cold rain began to fall.

Jem shivered in his shirtsleeves, hugging himself and rubbing his arms to try and generate some heat. He felt his legs growing numb. Beside him, Mel tugged his jacket closer around her. She was breathing heavily in the cold and steam blew from her nostrils and mouth when she exhaled.

Yanluo noticed their discomfort and laughed. "You humans think Hell is a great lake of fire and brimstone. None of you have any idea."

"No, no one ever thought Hell is icy," Mel answered. "It makes sense though. I read in a book somewhere. No where is it more bleak and hopeless than a barren icy wasteland. In the cold and dark, people live in hope of seeing the light and feeling warm again. And when they don't, it's the worst thing in the world. To remember what it is to be warm but to know they're never going to see the sun again. That's Hell." She stopped expostulating as she was shivering too hard to continue.

Jem listened to her. "It seems to be that Mel is right," he agreed. "Hell is cold, not only because of the temperature but also because people isolate themselves and struggle for their own survival, heedless of their neighbour's pain. They cannot see that it is through helping others that they can ease their own suffering."

At those words, he turned to Mel and put his arms around her, holding her to him, ignoring her astonished exclamation of "Jem!". Their bodies fit together like two pieces of a puzzle. Between them, he felt the first slivers of warmth beginning to creep back.

Yanluo snarled at them, sounding like he had been cheated of his prey.

Jem smiled down at Mel. "I'm feeling warmer already."

"I totally agree," Mel said, grinning widely.

The wind howled around them, whipping up the rain and sleet, but the cold did not pierce through. It was as though they were in a protected bubble. The wind blew harder and harder until it reached a fever pitch and it was a white-out around them. Clinging to each other, Jem felt Mel bury her face in his chest, and he too hid his face in her hair. It smelled of oranges.

The storm eventually died down and Jem took a peek. They were no longer in the icy cavern but were standing in a lush green forest. It was warm and a little humid, but nothing that could not be borne.

"Where are we?" Mel asked, looking around in wonder. "This place is so beautiful."

Jem agreed about the place's beauty. Giant trees rose out of the low-growing ferns, towering so high that he could not see the tops. Moss, lichen and smaller plants grew between the cracks of the tree trunks. The sound of insects and birds chirping filled the air pleasantly. The entire area felt ancient and venerable.

But he knew they ought not to linger. "It is beautiful," Jem said. "But we should make a move. We don't know what we have to face here." He paused, trying to decide which direction to go. "Let's go that way," he said, gesturing towards the north. "I think I hear the sound of water there."

"Right. Lead on, O fearless leader," Mel agreed.

"Are you mocking me?" Jem asked. Mel just sniggered and gave him a salute. Jem sighed and led the way forward.

True to his guess, they found a small stream and followed it, eventually discovering a pool and majestic waterfall. There was a white mist coming off the water and the light was quickly fading as night fell.

Mel seemed to have noticed this too for she commented: "Oh great, camping. I hate camping."

Jem was a city boy but he did have some outdoor survival skills. Mel seemed incapable of doing anything – she even got it wrong when he asked her to collect wood. Eventually, he told her to sit still and keep a look out in case of wild animals. She performed this task extremely well, sitting tensely, darting her eyes about and jumping at the slightest twitch of the undergrowth. When he returned from gathering wood, she offered him a lighter that she dug out of her pouch. He eyed it with apprehension and she flicked it open, igniting the wood.

With the fire going, both of them relaxed. Night had fallen and the shadows surrounded them. The fire was a welcome source of light and warmth. They sat across the fire from each other, saying nothing for now. Jem was beginning to feel a little awkward. He had little experience with girls and Mel unnerved him.

She broke the silence first. "I feel like we should be telling ghosts stories or something," she said.

"Why should we do that?" Jem asked, perplexed.

"It's a tradition," Mel answered. "Well, it is when I'm from. Sitting around a campfire, taking turns to tell spooky ghost stories, roasting marshmallows, chestnuts and hot dogs."

"You roast a dog over the fire? That terrible!" Jem exclaimed.

Mel giggled. "Of course we don't roast dogs, you idiot. A hot dog is a sausage."

Jem did not know whether to laugh or grimace. There were strange names for food during his time too so he should not be surprised that the future generations also dubbed their food with odd monikers.

"I could do with a sausage now," Jem commented to himself.

"I don't feel hungry though. Are you?" Mel asked. Jem shook his head. "You think this is something to do with us being dead? Like, all earthly desires get stripped away, so we don't feel hungry or thirsty. I still feel tired though. Is that normal?"

Jem laughed this time. "Oh god, I don't know what's normal and what's not. But I'm sure our situation is extremely abnormal." He paused and poked at the fire causing some sparks to fly out. "Mel, we need to talk."

* * *

**Bit of a filler chapter. Sorry. How about a nice picture of the forest they're in to make up for it? The Gondwana rainforests of Australia.**

**Tiny url dot com slash gondtree**  
**Tiny url dot com slash gondfall**


	9. Family

_**9. Family**_

Many questions had been growing in Jem's mind for some time, ever since Bilis Manger first insinuated that he and Mel were linked. With the discovery that they shared a common surname, the questions were now burning and he had to know the answers or he felt he might go mad.

"Mel, you must be frank with me. Who are you? What is the link that exists between us? You have the same surname as me. Why?" Jem asked.

Mel looked alarmed. "Jem, do you really think I know why? I'm as confused as you, mate," she said. "I mean, look at you. You're from the 1800s. I'm from 2029. There's 200 years between us. Even all this is some timey-wimey mess that I can't figure out. How the hell am I supposed to know how you're linked to me?"

Jem closed his eyes and took a deep breath to calm himself. "You're right," he said. "I beg your pardon, Mel. I did not mean to…"

"Yeah, well, you're the one who's supposed to know about this supernatural stuff," Mel said gruffly. "Ever since I met you I've been kidnapped, threatened, sent on stupid quests, drowned, went to hell, met a demon, went through the so-called 'final judgement' and now I'm stuck here in this stinking rainforest. You're the angel boy. So you tell me. What the hell is going on?"

Jem raised his eyebrows. He had no idea Mel was as frustrated as he. "Mel, I assure you that I mean you no harm. I am in the same boat as you. Whatever happened to you happened to me too and I am just as much in the dark as you are. Yes, I am a Shadowhunter, but that does not mean I was trained for this. Please, let us put aside any animosity we may have towards each other and work together."

"Ok," Mel agreed. "But, before we do any talking… I am melting inside this coat of yours. I'm going to take it off and you are going to find some way to be ok with it. I refuse to die of heat stroke just because you have some kind of old-fashioned Victorian sense of decency."

Her tone left no room for argument and suggested that if Jem even thought of objecting, she would do something extremely nasty and painful to him. So he held his tongue as she undid the belt that held the jacket closed and shrugged the garment off her shoulders, revealing the skimpy camisole underneath. She carelessly folded the jacket in half and dropped it on the ground beside her.

"Right, so, let's tackle an easy question first," Mel said. "Our surname. You're a Carstairs, like me. So, the logical explanation is that you're related. You've got to be one of my ancestors. Yeah?"

"That is a possibility," Jem admitted.

Mel fished around in her pouch and withdrew a small silver pocket mirror, talking all the while. "I don't know my parents. I was shuttled around in foster care when I was a kid. It'd be awesome to finally know someone who's family."

She moved to sit next to Jem and held out the mirror, putting her face close to his so their reflections were both captured in the mirror.

By the light of the fire, their faces looked almost identical. They both had the same dark Chinese eyes and facial structure, though Jem was gaunter than Mel.

"Look – we're alike," Mel announced. "Maybe you're my great great great great grandfather or something." She snapped the pocket mirror shut with an air of satisfaction. "I should start calling you 'Gramps'."

Jem rolled his eyes. "Oh please don't," he said. "But you're forgetting one important thing – I died. I couldn't possibly father children if I'm dead."

Mel pondered this impediment. "Maybe I'm descended from a relative then. Your brother, maybe."

"I don't have a brother."

"Sister?"

"Girls don't pass on the family name."

"Oh shut up if you're not going to be helpful!" Mel snapped, giving him a playful slap on the shoulder causing Jem to laugh.

As she hit him, her bracelets sparkled in the firelight and one of the charms caught Jem's eye. "May I see your bracelet? The one with the charms," he asked. Mel raised her eyebrow at him but undid the bracelet and dropped it into his open palm. He examined the charms and drew a deep breath when he saw one he recognised. It was a jade pendant in the shape of a fist.

"Where did you get this?" he asked.

Mel shrugged. "I've always had it. My real parents gave it to me, apparently. Only it was a necklace then. I don't really like necklaces so I had it made into a charm. Why?"

Jem reached into his shirt and pulled out the chain he wore around his neck. Dangling on the chain was the same jade pendant. Mel frowned. "What the hell!" she exclaimed.

"Indeed," Jem said. "It's the same pendant. I'd know it anywhere." He tucked his chain back under his shirt and handed Mel's bracelet back to her. "There's no denying we're related. Perhaps also, the fact that we died on the same day, and… when were you born, Mel?" Mel told him. "Hmm… the same date as I," Jem said. "We are of the same blood. The judge said, two persons and yet one. Like yin and yang. Perhaps this is why we were chosen."

Jem and Mel stayed up until late into the night talking. Mel fell asleep first, curled up by the fire with Jem's coat wadded beneath her head like a pillow. Jem lay on the other side of the fire and watched her sleep. He was amazed that there existed the possibility that he had descendants. He had never harboured any hope of even marrying. He never wanted to saddle any woman with the burden of a husband with one foot in the grave.

And yet there was Mel – proof that somehow, his bloodline survived for nearly two hundred years. Jem struggled to wrap his head around that happy fact.

It was a long time before he fell asleep. When he did, he dreamt he was fighting demons with Will and some other Shadowhunters. He could not see what kind of demon it was nor who was winning. The only thing he knew was that the fighting was fierce. He saw Will's manic grin as he chopped down the demons with every stroke of his shining seraph blade. Jem was right beside him, wielding a broadsword.

"What a fight, eh, Jem?" Will yelled. "Nothing like it to make you remember you're alive!"

Jem was going to reply except that he suddenly remembered he was not alive. He died alone on Blackfriars Bridge. His sudden realisation made him stop fighting and drop his sword. He trembled as he looked around him. It could not be real. He looked down at his hands. Usually by now they would be stained with the dirt of the battle. They were perfectly clean. The noise of the battle became muffled as if he had stepped into a bubble apart from the rest of the world.

Will shouted at him. "Jem! Jem, come on. Come on, mate. Wake up! Please!"

The Will he knew never said "please", Jem thought. Will's voice sounded like it was coming from very far away. There was a feminine undertone that grew stronger as Will's voice receded. The sounds of the battle were also increasing in volume, as though the bubble he was in was shattering.

He sat up in shock and found himself in the middle of a raging battle.


	10. Valkyrie

**I've got a bad cold and am feeling miserable sneezing non-stop. So I thought I'd post another chapter tonight. All your lovely reviews make me feel better. Hope you like the chapter. :)**

* * *

_**10. Valkyrie**_

The remnants of the dream fell away from Jem as Mel shook him hard, calling his name urgently as she did so. She looked terrified, and with good reason. The primordial forest had vanished and they were now in a great plain. In the distance, was a great rock, on which was perched a hall or castle. All round them were men in armour, leather and fur, wielding weapons that glittered in the sunlight.

The men shouted constantly. Insults, battle cries, calls of encouragement and frustration mingled with the almost-deafening clang of metal on metal as they exchanged fierce blows.

From years of training as a Shadowhunter, Jem grabbed his sword-cane without thinking, unsheathed it and leapt to his feet. He took Mel's hand and pulled her close to him.

As though sensing that new combatants had entered the field, the fighters quickly turned their attention to Jem and Mel. Jem was drawn into combat with a particularly brawny man who, although he towered over Jem, relied very much on his brute strength. Jem had nimbleness on his side and easily avoided his blows, managing to land a few choice ones of his own. It felt good to be able to use all his strength and not have to worry that it may cause his illness to worsen.

The sound of female screaming interrupted Jem's glee. He quickly looked round for Mel. He found her some distance away engaged in a brawl with another man. The two were rolling on the ground wrestling. Mel was screaming because the man was yanking her hair even as she tried to scratch at his face.

Jem tried to push his way through to her. Before he could reach her, though, she had jammed her elbow hard into the man's side. He released her and she got to her feet and stomped hard on his crotch. The man let out a high-pitched shriek that made Jem wince.

Another fighter attacked Jem just then and he was forced to concentrate on parrying blows. This man was smarter than the first so it posed a pleasing challenge for Jem. However, it was not a difficult for Jem to meet, given all his combat training and experience. He managed to knock down his opponent, who fell back and disappeared in the throng.

Jem had no time to pursue him or wonder why he did not return to finish the fight. A third warrior came at him from behind; he was only just able to avoid being skewered by his metal-tipped staff. Jem expertly fought, using every bit of advantage his Nephilim blood offered – superior speed and strength. But every contact Jem's sword-cane made against the heavy staff sent reverberations down Jem's arm. After several blows, his sword arm was aching with exertion. His opponent too looked like he was getting tired out in his attempt to keep up with Jem.

All of a sudden, his opponent jerked forward as a halo of splintered wood exploded around his head. The man collapsed, revealing Mel standing behind him holding a broken club. Jem stared speechless at her. She looked furious.

"I can't believe this," she began accusingly. "You're actually enjoying this, aren't you? Men!" She rolled her eyes. Jem felt a little guilty at this. It was true; the joy of battle – long suppressed by the knowledge that he could not give it his all – had awoken in him.

"I've been attacked like five dozen bloody times by men who've tried to kill me in 84 thousand ways. We are getting out of here. Right now!"

While Jem understood her fury, he also sensed something else in her. He teased her about it: "Come now, Mel. You must admit that it is a little fun to engage in battle. I see it in your eyes. The bloodlust. You never thought you were a warrior. But you are. That side of you is coming out."

Mel punched him in the face. There was little strength in her blow, though she had on her wildcat look again. "Ow," he said, obligingly so as to avoid her doing something else drastic like gouging his eyes out with her fingers. "Alright. You're right. This is not our fight. We are getting out of here now."

The two of them pushed their way through the fighters, not pausing for anything more than a few cursory blows to clear their path. They headed towards the castle rock.

As they approached, a bird took off from the ramparts, circled and landed before them. It was a raven, a huge one, and blacker than any they had ever seen.

The raven folded its wings as it landed and revealed itself to be a woman clad in leather and furs. Her red hair was braided with metal beads and she wore a helmet and half mask made of bone.

"Why do you leave the field, warriors?" the woman asked. Her voice was deep and regal.

"This is not our battle, Lady, and so we are keeping out of it," Jem answered politely.

"Yeah, we were in a forest a few hours ago, minding our own business. Then suddenly, bam! We woke up here," Mel added. "It's got to be some kind of mistake. Are you in charge here? We didn't know there was going to be a battle happening. We're civilians caught in the crossfire. I'm sure there are rules about that. Who are you anyway?"

The woman looked amused. "I am a Valkyrie," she answered. "I walk the battlefields and choose great warriors who fall in battle to come here, to Valhalla."

"The Norse heaven?" Jem clarified. He turned to Mel. "This must be another part of the quest. We have to do something here." Mel shrugged.

Jem addressed the warrior woman again. "Lady Valkyrie, we were sent by Bilis Manger. We were told to retrieve the key to free the Light, for the salvation of the world. Can you assist us?"

The Valkyrie frowned thoughtfully. "The salvation of the world is at Ragnarok, when the souls of all warriors will go forth in the name of the All-Father and the earth shall be renewed. I know nothing of the quest you speak of.

"She's no help," Mel said to Jem. "We can't stay here and fight off dead warriors till kingdom come and trumpet sound. There has to be another way. Lady Valkyrie, is there someone else we could talk to? Maybe someone else here knows something."

The Valkyrie considered Mel's suggestion and said: "When the All-Father sought knowledge, he kept vigil under the World Tree. Perhaps the answers you seek may be found there."

"Will you take us to this tree then, Lady?" Jem asked.

"Follow me."

The woman transformed back into the raven and led them right to the base of the castle rock. There, she tapped her beak against the stone. A round opening appeared, leading into the rock. It was dark and nothing could be seen. The raven flew in without hesitation.

Jem took out his witchlight stone as he entered. The light glowed but seemed unable to penetrate the darkness.

"Even hell wasn't this dark," Mel commented from behind him as they walked. "We'll never be able to find that bird in here. Black on black was a brilliant idea," she said sarcastically.

"I agree," Jem said. "However, there is nothing we can do but to move forward and trust that we are being led well."

They were suddenly blinded by a dazzling light. When vision returned, they found themselves in an empty grass plain. The only feature of the plain was a huge tree. Its leaves blocked the sun, making it gloomy under its branches. It was at least twice as tall as it was wide. The tree also gave off the impression that it was holding up the sky. Jem could easily believe that it had been present at the creation of the universe and would be standing still until the last syllable of recorded time, and beyond.

The Valkyrie waited under the tree. Beside her were two coils of rope.

"I don't like the look of those ropes," Mel said. "I thought we just needed to keep vigil under the tree."

"You will be hung upside down from the tree for nine days and nine nights, as the All-Father was," the woman informed them. "Knowledge will come to you."

"Or we might have a stroke and die," Mel retorted. "All that blood rushing to our heads, definitey not good. I did it once in PE, hanging upside down. Didn't half get a headache. And then I had a seizure. I don't much fancy doing it for nine days."

"Oh, stop it, Mel," Jem admonished. "I'm sure there's a reason for the ritual. You don't have to do it if you're worried. I can do it."

Mel looked alarmed. "No!" she exclaimed. "I mean, no, I'll do it too. All for one and one for all, as they say." She took Jem's hand and squeezed it. "We're ready," she told the Valkyrie.

The Valkyrie gently but firmly wound the rope around each of their bodies placing the ropes so they would support their weight. She looped one end of the rope up to a branch and then hoisted them up until they were several feet off the ground.

"Fare well, warriors," she said after completing the task. "May you find what you are looking for."

With that, the Valkyrie transformed into the raven and flew away, leaving Jem and Mel alone to hang on the tree.

* * *

**Got some images that go with this chapter:**  
**Tiny url dot com slash lady valky**  
**Tiny url dot com slash wld tree**


	11. Hanged Man

**There is an image to go with this chapter: tiny url dot com slash tremn**

* * *

_**11. Hanged Man**_

In tarot, the hanged man is one of the most mysterious cards. The man is suspended upside down from a wooden beam. His serene expression, however, suggests that he is hanging there of his own free will. It symbolises being suspended in time, sacrifice for the greater good and letting go.

Mel closed her eyes and tried to slow her breathing. Ever since the Valkyrie lifted her off the ground, she felt panic rising up inside – fear of confinement, the old fear of triggering a seizure, of being high up off the ground held up by nothing but a few ropes. The ground seemed to be a long way away. She doubted if she could endure this for nine whole days and nights. She thought she might go mad first.

She turned her head over to look at Jem. His face was absolutely calm and peaceful – a picture of ultimate surrender to what may happen. She envied his attitude.

Mel thought back to the night before, when she and Jem had talked by the fire. "Thing is, Jem," she had said, "I was living with this epilepsy time bomb in my head for so long that I was no longer scared to die. I got immune to the idea and took it for granted. You know, the way they say not to jump down the stairs or you'll fall and break your neck but you do it anyway and stop caring about getting injured?

"Then two years ago, I had a series of seizures that wouldn't stop. Status epilepticus, they called it. My brain was fried and everyone thought I was a gonner. I was in a coma for about a week but somehow, I lived. And when I did, I realised how much I wanted to stay alive."

She had paused and showed Jem her hand, where the number "86400" was tattooed onto the side of her thumb. "I had this done last year. 86400 is the number of seconds there are in one day. It's to remind myself to make use of each second I have. I was not prepared to die on Blackfriars Bridge, Jem. I'm not ready. I'm not done with life yet."

Jem had given her a sympathetic smile. "No one is ever ready for death, I think. I too have had several years to reconcile myself to my own early death. My friend told me there is a river separating the living and the dead. We who live on its shores must be ready to leave everything behind and cross over. We see every second as being infinitely precious, because we are conscious of how little of it we have left. We do not get to choose when time runs out for us. We can only choose how we respond to it."

"Don't fib. I'm sure you didn't go quietly when you died," Mel had retorted.

"I never said I did," Jem replied. "Of course, I fought back. But part of fighting is knowing when to stop. It's not cowardice or weakness. It's merely a paradigm shift, to realise that you have entered a new way of being and that it is futile to try to cling to your old way. The only way to move forward is to let go and embrace it."

"You make it sound so easy."

"Trust me, Mel, it's anything but that, even for me. However, I'm certain it can be done. It must."

Mel began to cry as she recalled Jem's words and his determined face in the firelight. She did not want to let go of life. It was the only thing she knew. She wished that all this was just a dream. She would wake up feeling a little spooked but then would laugh it off with her mates later.

"Mel," Jem's soft voice drifted over to her. She saw him looking at her now, his dark eyes soft and kind. "Mel, stop fighting it. I know it's frightening. But you're not alone. I'm here. I'll help you in any way I can. But you have to try."

"How?" Mel asked.

"Face your fears. Let go."

Mel closed her eyes. She focused on her breathing. Slow deep breaths in and out. Surrender to the experience, to death, to new life.

She saw her old life. Her childhood drifting around London as her foster parents could not handle taking care of a kid with a disability. One family freaked out the first time she had a seizure in front of them. Another hated the ugly scar on her arm and called her a "deformed freak". Each rejection had hurt her and made her feel abandoned all over again. She was the girl that no one wanted. It started with her unknown parents who gave her up and continued all through her life.

But amid the hurt, she had found friends. Friends from school who did not care that she was sick. Friends in the neighbourhood who treated her like a normal person, and even took her in that time when she tried to run away from the foster home. She remembered the good times and laughter when they hung out together, played pranks and carried out dares. No matter where her foster home was, it was simple enough for her to return to her old friends.

Now, she wandered through her memories of them, reliving those times. She and her friends hanging out at the playground, discussing the latest developments in a soap they were all watching, and gossiping about other people they knew.

Mel stood over the scene, standing behind herself. She remembered this day. She could remember every day now, it seemed. She put out a hand, wanting to touch her friends, but was met only with thin air. It was as though she were a ghost.

"I'm dead, mates," she said. "All those times we talked about it. I wonder if you guys would come for my funeral. Dress up, say nice stuff. I bet the party would start afterwards though. You guys, sneaking into the cemetery at night and having a booze fest over my grave. I reckon I'd like that. Don't forget to do that for me. None of all the candles and flowers shit. A prayer might be nice. Nothing too long though. That'll be boring."

Memories came and went. She saw again the fights she had with her foster parents, the frustration when she was hospitalised over and over, the joy when her friends came to see her, the sting when she got her tattoo. Little things that she had taken for granted and had forgotten without a second thought now seemed so precious.

It was time to let go though. To move forward, she had to say farewell to these things, to this life. She imagined herself in a room. Before her was a large box, the kind you find in dusty attics stuffed full of junk. Only this one was empty.

Around the room she saw artefacts from her life. In went the photographs first, representing the images of her memories and all the faces and things she had seen. Then went the trinkets and objects representing hopes and dreams – a Hello Kitty notebook she had loved in primary school, Doc Martens one foster mother had given her after discovering that her shoes were worn down to nothing, old letters, the Medicaid bracelet that she had worn every day for years.

By the time she finished, the room was looking very bare. There was just one more item left though – the jade pendant shaped like a fist; the only thing she owned that was given to her by her birth parents and her only tie to them. The thing that represented the early years of her life and all the things that happened then which she could not remember. Throughout her life, Mel had clung to this pendant in the hope that it would lead her back to her family. It was her dearest wish that she would find her family one day and they would welcome her and love her and make her feel wanted.

She had died without knowing who her family was. Yet, she feared to let this go. This dream had sustained her through a lifetime of hurt. She did not know how to exist without it.

She sat there for a long time, clutching that pendant in her hand. Then, she felt a shift in the air. She looked up and saw Jem there. He was smiling kindly at her and he sat on the other side of the box.

"I can't do it, Jem," Mel admitted.

Jem nodded. "Let me help," he offered. He reached to his neck and undid the chain that held his jade pendant. He placed the pendant on his palm and held it out to her, not in a way that suggested he was giving it to her. On the contrary, it felt like she ought to give him something. The pendant in his palm somehow felt incomplete.

Mel looked straight at Jem for reassurance. Then she placed her pendant in his palm. The two pieces of jade seemed to fade into one and Jem tipped his hand, allowing it to fall into the box. He took up the lid of the box and shut it.

After he had done that, he stood and held out his hand to Mel again. Mel took it and stood alongside him.

"Did you have to do this too?" Mel asked.

"Yes," Jem replied. A second box seemed to materialise beside Mel's. "And it was hard for me too. But it's done. It's time for us to move on."

Mel saw a door before them. She was not sure if it was there all along or if it had just appeared. Jem took the handle and pushed it open. Surrendering to fate and trusting that this was all part of a greater plan, they stepped through together, leaving the room and the box of Mel's memories behind.


	12. Hearts

_**12. Hearts**_

Through the door was a corridor of made of huge slabs of stone. The floor was covered in sand. There were no windows or openings. Great torches burned from sconces on the walls, which were covered in colourful hieroglyphs from floor to ceiling. The corridor seemed to stretch onwards for a very long way and neither Jem nor Mel could see what lay ahead.

They took several steps forward and entered this new realm. The door closed and vanished behind them, leaving them in the corridor with no option but to go down and face what was ahead.

Everything was still; even the torches burned and flickered without a sound. Their breathing and movements were the only things that disturbed the silence. Mel winced at every step she took for her footsteps sounded like thunder. In contrast, Jem glided along silently beside her.

The drawings on the walls began to look more coherent. They were images of people, drawn crudely, wearing robes of various colours. In their hands, they held an ankh.

"It's Egyptian," Mel whispered to Jem.

"Pardon?" Jem whispered back. "What do you mean? Do you know what's going to happen?"

"I'm not sure," Mel replied. "Mummification, maybe? I hope not though. I don't want my brains yanked out through my nose with a rusty hook." Jem made a disgusted face at that. "Can't you use your light stone thingy, Jem? All this flickering firelight is spooky."

Jem obliged and took out his witchlight. To his surprise, the stone did not light up at his touch, as it usually did. He transferred it to his other hand, hoping that might work. But the stone stayed dark and cold.

"Why isn't it working?" Mel asked, a tinge of panic in her voice.

Jem shook his head. He looked down at his hands and was shocked to see that his marks were gone. His skin was smooth and unblemished, as though he had never been marked. He had not felt when they vanished. "I think…" he began slowly and softly. "I think it's because I'm truly dead now. I have moved out of the realm of men and angels."

Mel had an idea of what he meant. He had told her about Shadowhunters – those beings with the blood of angels running through their veins. "You mean your angel mojo is gone?" she asked. "That's bad, right?"

"I cannot say," Jem said.

Just then, they saw a figure at the end of the corridor. It was a tall figure, with the silhouette of a man wearing a kilt. When they got closer, they saw that it was a man with the head of a jackal. There was an ankh in his left hand.

"I am Anubis," he said. His voice, though not loud, resounded through the corridor. "Come."

He took them by the hand and led them through the corridor. His skin was cold and dry, like sand in the desert. Eventually, they came to a large gallery filled with animal-headed deities. There were 43 of them, and each of these deities seemed to be able to see right through them and into the innermost corners of their souls.

Anubis brought them before a platform where a green-skinned man with a pharaoh's mask sat – Osiris, the god of the dead. On his head was a crown with two large ostrich feathers on either side. On his right was Thoth, the scribe of the gods and deity of wisdom. He had an ibis head and was recording down the proceedings on a scroll of papyrus. At the front of the platform was a set of scales, watched over by Ma'at, the goddess of truth and justice. Under the scales squatted a demon that was part lion, part hippopotamus and part crocodile – Ammit, the devourer.

Jem looked uncertainly at Mel. He did not know what to do or if he should say anything. Standing before this tribunal of 43 deities was far more harrowing than anything he had ever faced before, even more so than facing the three judges of hell.

"Now, before Osiris, you will be judged, James Carstairs and Melissa Carstairs," Anubis said. He came and stood in front of Jem. He placed one hand over Jem's chest, where his heart was. Jem felt a strange sensation as his heart suddenly beat so hard, as though it might burst forth from his body. Anubis' hand glowed. It was as though he were drawing light out from Jem, and indeed, he did. Anubis withdrew his hand and in his palm lay Jem's beating heart, awash in golden light.

Anubis carefully placed the heart on one side of the scale. As he did so, Ma'at plucked a feather from her headdress and placed it on the other side.

Jem felt as though everything had fallen away. He was alone, though he sensed the presence of all the deities around him. They were inside his mind, going through all his memories. Everything he had done that was better left undone. Everything he had not done that he could have. Things he had left unsaid, all the little hurts and the great hurts. Everything one was pulled out of him, detail by detail. All forgetfulness was stripped away and whittled down to the bare truth.

He saw his mother again, kissing him and playing with him in the Shanghai Institute. He saw his father teaching him how to play the violin, large hands guiding his little ones to the right position. The great Carstairs blade Cortana strapped to his father's back, and remembered the feel of the steel when his father let him try it out. _"One day, you will wield this blade, son."_

Then fire through his young body as the demon stung him again and again. He heard his mother screaming. His father's hand cut off at the wrist, still grasping Cortana. Blood everywhere. And the screams. More hurt and pain as the eerie parchment-robed figures of the Silent Brothers experimented on him to try and purge him of the poison.

Then came relief and Will. His beloved friend who could be so cruel and so kind. He saw himself doing nothing as Will fought with Gabriel Lightwood and broke his arm. Will, who had taken care of him so tenderly when the illness was at its worst. Why had he not tried harder to cultivate Will's kindness? He saw them training together, fighting together, and doing the parabatai ceremony.

His life was taken apart moment by moment. It seemed to last a thousand years, though it may have been less than an instant.

Then, when his life came to an end, and it seemed there was nothing more to see, the process began again. It was worse this time for now Jem knew everything that he had done and not done, and was forced to watch and re-live his life in all its terrible beauty. There were no more excuses, no more lies and evasions; just the truth.

At the end, he fell to his knees, closed his eyes and told the deities the story of his life, from birth to death, changing nothing, leaving out nothing and facing everything. He opened his heart and bared it all.

And then it was over. Jem opened his eyes and found himself back in the gallery. Next to him, Mel was similarly on her knees, tears flowing down her cheeks. Jem knew she too went through the process he did. He reached out to her and hugged her close to him.

There was an expectant silence in the gallery. All eyes were fixed on the weighing scales, which were rocking up and down, yet to find a balance between their hearts and Ma'at's feather.

It felt like forever before the scales settled. When they did, Jem saw their hearts were lighter than the feather.

"You have been found worthy," Osiris announced. "Your hearts will be returned to you and you may pass."

A deity with the head of a falcon and a bright glowing disc above his head rose and approached them. "I am Ra. You will come with me and I will bring you back to where you belong." He held out his hand and it seemed as though the disc above him grew, engulfing his body and becoming a doorway out of the judgement gallery. Through it, they saw the huge tree where they had been tied up. Jem took Mel's hand and together, they stepped through.

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**Hope it wasn't too confusing a chapter. The judgement process was adapted from Neil Gaiman's short story Other People, that appeared in the collection Fragile Things.  
This is what I imagined it looked like when Anubis drew out their hearts: tiny url dot com slash draw heart**


	13. Light

_**13. Light**_

Jem and Mel woke up tangled together under the tree, the ropes that held them up were fallen on the ground around them. Standing above and looking over them was the Valkyrie.

"Welcome back, warriors," she greeted with a smile. "Your vigil has ended. Did you find what you were looking for?"

Jem sat up shakily. He felt very light, as though a huge burden had been lifted from him. He looked down and saw in his hand a pulsating blue sphere. Little white-blue flames flickered around the edges, tickling his hand like the wings of a butterfly were brushing against him. Beside him, he saw Mel cupping a similar blue sphere in both hands.

"These are our hearts," Jem said. "It's like the judge Minos said – we are the keys, but we had to be ground and purified before we could serve our purpose. Now the process is complete."

"We should keep these somewhere safe," Mel suggested. "It's… I don't know how to describe it. It's precious."

Jem agreed. Mel opened up her pouch and carefully placed her heart inside. Jem came to her and placed his in too.

"We have to return now," Jem said. "Lady Valkyrie, can you help us?"

The Valkyrie inclined her head. "There are many paths leading in and out of Valhalla. I will take you to the hall and you may find a way back."

A great wind built up around them as though they were surrounded by many great beating wings. Jem and Mel were wrapped up in the wind but so light did they feel that it was just like being a feather floating on the breeze.

They landed in a great hall held up by pillars made of solid wood. Huge open windows lined the walls on one side, through which the sounds of the battle wafted. There were benches placed at regular intervals in the hall upon which men rested. Some were injured and were being tended to by other Valkyries. Their wounds healed quickly and left no scar. Other men were resting, talking among themselves and laughing without a care.

"Welcome to Valhalla," the Valkyrie said. "If you wish, you may rest here a while, for all weary souls will find peace and contentment here."

"Thank you, Lady," Mel said. "I'd love to but I think we should go. We've been wandering long enough. Best to be getting back and getting everything over with."

"Spoken as a true warrior," the Valkyrie said. "When you have completed your task, you will find Valhalla open to the both of you. Meanwhile, you will find your path through the doors." She gestured to the main doors leading out of the hall. "Hail and fare well, warriors. May the watchful eyes of the All-Father and all high holy gods look upon you and give to you victory and peace."

Two Valkyries opened the door for Jem and Mel. "This is it," Mel said. "Ready?" She took Jem's hand and, together as they had made that first step on their journey, they stepped through the door.

At the other side was the antechamber of wood and stone, with the huge altar in the middle. Standing before it was the tall thin man Bilis Manger. He held out both his hands to them. "Welcome, welcome, and well met indeed," he said, his wispy voice resounding eerily through the chamber.

"We have returned," Jem said. "And we have the key."

"I know you do," Bilis replied. "I can feel it. The time is near, oh so near, when my Lord of Light will come forth and shine in this world again." His lips curled up in a smile. "Give me the key."

Mel opened her pouch and drew out their hearts. The otherworldly light that glowed from the hearts pulsed brightly and threw the lights in the chamber into shadow. The soft flames covered her hands as she held them out to Bilis.

Bilis tenderly took the hearts. "At last. Such a key as I could never have fathomed. I made the right decision when I chose the two of you. Your hearts are pure and your souls will pave the way for my Lord's return."

He turned away from them and went to the altar, covering the distance in a few long strides. He placed the hearts on the altar. "Now, my Lord of Light, come now into this world; it is yours!"

The hearts pulsed in a frenetic tattoo and the light grew stronger with each beat, eventually sending out piercing beams of light. The mixture of light and dark in the chamber threw up strange shadows. The shadows coalesced and became more solid. They seemed alive and seemed to stalk around the room. The chamber began to shake.

"Jem, this feels wrong," Mel said, her face anxious. Her hand was clutched to her chest. "Something's wrong." Jem knew what she meant. He too felt it; something burning up in his soul.

Amid it all stood Bilis, his arms raised up as a proselyte. He wore an expression of utter ecstasy and glee.

"You have what you wanted," Jem shouted at him. "Now set us free. Let us die and go in peace."

"Yeah. We helped you free the Light. Now you keep your word!" Mel demanded. "Your Light can go fight it's own battles and save the world on its own. We're done. We're dead anyway. Saving the world isn't our business any more and we want out of it. Right now!"

Bilis turned to face them. He laughed a short thin laugh. "My dear girl, you really thought all this was to save the world? No, the world cannot be saved. But it can be remade. As my Lord of Light comes, so shall he remake the world in his image. And all shall be light and beautiful and terrible. All shall love him and despair."

"No! We won't let you destroy the world!" Mel darted forward and made a grab at their hearts on the altar. The light pulsed and pierced her like a spear. She was thrown back and hit one of the pillars. She staggered to her feet.

"She's right. This was never our agreement," Jem said. He had no weapon but he rushed at Bilis, intending to kill him with his bare hands if need be. Again, the light repelled him.

"You are fools," Bilis said. "Do you think you can resist? You who are a part of this? You can no sooner destroy this than destroy yourselves." He looked cruelly at them. "I hoped I would not have to put you away into safekeeping, but it seems you require protecting from yourselves. So be it then."

With a wave of his hand, the chamber melted away and Jem and Mel found themselves back on Blackfriars Bridge.

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**Nice picture for you all to see: **

**This is what the hearts look like: tiny url dot com slash howl heart**


	14. Burn

_**14. Burn**_

Jem looked down and saw himself lying on the bridge. His body lay where it had fallen, washed in the blood he had coughed up in his last yin fen attack. He heard Will shout out behind him. He turned and saw his beloved parabatai rushing forward, calling his name.

Will reached Jem's prone body and knelt down. A look of utter devastation crossed his face. "Jem?" he whispered, touching his friend's face as though not believing his eyes. "Jem? Wake up. Please, you have to be all right. Please." He put his arms around him, cradling his body.

Jem's heart broke as he saw Will take out a handkerchief and carefully clean the blood from his face. He saw the light die in Will's eyes as tears began to flow.

"Will? Did you find…?" Charlotte's voice sounded and trailed away as the smaller woman came up. "Is he…?"

"Help him, Charlotte," Will pleaded. "For god's sake, help him."

Charlotte bent over Jem's body and took his pulse. She gently slapped his face, hoping that it would revive him, and called his name. There was no effect. "We have to get him back to the Institute. Maybe the Silent Brothers can do something," Charlotte suggested. She sounded extremely doubtful.

Will's eyes were wild. "Yes, we should. That's what we should do." He got up and struggled to carry Jem's dead weight. Charlotte tried to help him but she was too small. Jem's body slipped from their grasp and fell back onto the bridge with a dull thud. "No!" Will screamed, his resolve breaking. "No! You can't leave me, James Carstairs!" He fell to his knees, his body heaving with sobs. "Please, James," he whispered so softly that only Jem could hear. "Please don't go where I can't follow. Please come back."

Charlotte knelt beside Will and put an arm around his shoulders. "Will…" she began, her voice breaking. "Will, Will…"

Tears rolled down Jem's face. He wished he could reach out and comfort them, but his touch was like a ghost's. Will felt nothing as Jem embraced him. Charlotte felt no more of Jem's kiss on her cheek than the touch of a light breeze. He was no longer a part of the world.

Then, flashes of light appeared on the bridge, solidifying into demons made of light. Will and Charlotte jumped up at once, their Shadowhunter training kicking in. They fought hard, weapons shining against these creatures. But they could not prevail. Jem forced himself to look on helplessly as his friends fell. The light creatures burned into their bodies, filling them and burning them from the inside out. Eventually, there was nothing left but ash.

The creatures leapt up gleefully and moved onwards towards the city. Jem looked up and saw Bilis Manger standing across the road, his expression smug. He turned his head away from Jem, looking into the distance. Jem looked too and saw London burning with the white light. He knew he was the cause. It was he who had unleashed the Light, and as a consequence, the world would burn.

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Mel smelt the smoky exhaust in the air first. Then she perceived the sounds of traffic and cars whizzing past on the opposite lane. Car horns were sounding and there was a glut of bright light as car headlights all focused on a spot in the middle of Blackfriars Bridge.

Her body laid there, twisted at an awkward angle and with blood pooling all around. Passers-by and motorists were stopping and pointing and shouting at one another in panicked tones.

"I swear; she came out of nowhere!"

"You had one too many, mate!"

"She had it coming; dashing across like that, thinking she's invincible, young punk."

"Oi! Get a move on!"

"Call an ambulance, you git!"

People had gathered around her body by now. One man squatted down and tried to take a pulse. "Can you hear me, love? What were you thinking?" he asked. "Hang in there. The ambulance is on its way."

Standing over and watching the scene, Mel shook her head. She knew there was nothing anyone could do, though it did not stop the bystanders from trying to help. She was glad they did care enough to try. Someone was attempting to give CPR but someone else stopped him, for fear of doing more damage to her broken body.

After a time, an ambulance drew up, its siren blaring loudly. The paramedics rushed out, carrying a bag with emergency medical supplies. The two pushed through the crowd and knelt to examine Mel. One shone a light into Mel's eyes. Her pupils did not react to the stimulus. The other took her pulse at her neck and at her wrist. Again, there was nothing.

The paramedics shook their heads at each other. One returned to the ambulance and brought out a body bag, which they loaded Mel in to. The bystanders were all quiet and solemn now as they watched. Mel was dead.

Mel felt detached from the scene, as though the events were happening to someone else and not to her. She turned away to leave. But as she did so, blinding flashes of light appeared on the bridge, through which stepped demons made of light. There was something dark about these demons despite the white light surrounding them.

The passers-by began screaming as the demons attacked, burning them from the inside and leaving nothing but ash. Drivers rushed to their cars but could not escape – for how do you escape from light? Cars careened over the edge as the drivers lost control of their cars and died. Fires sprang up from exploding vehicles. It was utter chaos everywhere.

Through the pandemonium, Mel spotted Bilis Manger standing across the road, his expression smug. He turned his head away from Mel, looking into the distance. Mel looked too and saw London burning with the white light. She knew she was the cause. She had unleashed the Light. Because of her, the world would burn.


	15. Fate

_**15. Fate**_

Mel closed her eyes, praying to escape this scene, hoping that all this was just a bad dream. When she opened her eyes, she found herself in a desert. The ground was white and cracked. Orange sand dunes stood shimmering in the distance. The remains of a few blackened trees dotted the landscape.

Three women, clothed in white, stood there. One held a spindle in her hands, another held a staff, and the third wielded a large knife. They were looking at Mel in an indifferent and detached way.

"Who are you and what do you want?" Mel asked defensively. "If you're going to send me on another quest, you've got another think coming. I'm sick of this. The world has ended and it's all my fault. Why can't you people just leave me alone to die?"

"Peace, child," the one with the knife said. "I am Atropos. These are my sisters Clotho and Lachesis. We are the Fates. We are the court of last appeal for souls who leave the world."

"Oh god, not another judgement," Mel groaned. "I can't deal with this any more. Do what you want with me."

"Peace," Atropos repeated. She stretched out her hand to the side. Mel looked to see what she was gesturing at and saw Jem walking towards them. He looked a wreck. She was so relieved to see him that she ran to him and hugged him.

"Are you all right, Mel?" Jem asked anxiously. "The demons, they didn't attack you?"

Mel shook her head. "But… all those people… It's horrible. It's so so horrible!"

"Peace," Atropos said again. "We mean you no harm. But we fear you have done great harm to your world. This wasteland you see is all that is left of it; cut short before its time."

"It wasn't our fault!" Mel insisted. "We never meant for any of this to happen."

"Nevertheless, great harm has been done through you," Atropos said. "Your fates have been twisted; mixed and jumbled up as no mortal's fate should be." She indicated the threads her sisters held. As she said, it was a jumbled mess. "The servant of the Light has hijacked your fates and turned them to his nefarious purpose. He is using the threads of your fate to weave a path for his god."

"He said it was so the Light could conquer the Dark," Jem said softly. "We thought we were doing good and saving the world."

"The world did not need saving," Atropos said. "The balance of Light and Dark was hard-won a long time ago and has been maintained since. In releasing the Light, you upset the balance. Too much light is as bad as too much darkness."

"What can we do?" Jem asked.

"Your wandering souls cannot find peace for you are linked to this evil. You are the anchor and the guide keeping the doorway open. Sever that connection and the path will break; balance will be restored."

"What must we do?" Jem asked again.

"You can do nothing, for your souls no longer belong to you," Atropos said. "But we can help, if you allow us to. There is no higher authority than ours. That is why we have come to you."

"What do you want to do to us?" Mel asked.

"The path that each person treads is already laid before their feet, though they do not see it. My sisters Clothos and Lachesis spins and takes the measure, and I make the cut, so everything has a beginning and an end. Your souls have not been forced off your destined paths. Just as you may cut out a knot in a thread, so too can I make an end for you and an end to all this."

"What will happen to us?" Mel asked. "Do we really die then?"

"That knowledge is not for mortals to know," Atropos said. "All you must do is play your part."

"That's all we've been doing for a while now," Mel said bitterly. "It's like we're puppets and you people are making us dance. Bilis Manger already used us to create the end of the world. Why should we believe you wouldn't do the same? Besides the fact that there is no more world to destroy."

Atropos looked almost amused. "Since there is no more world to destroy, as you pointed out, child, there can be no more damage done on that front, wouldn't you agree? Anything we do now can only make things better. It is in all our interests to restore balance."

"I'll do it," Jem said firmly. "I want to make things right. I will pay any cost." To Mel, he said: "Mel, I can't compel you to do anything, but I believe her. I believe we have our part to play, even if we do not like it. I trust that it will all turn out for the best."

Mel hesitated. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Then she sighed. "Okay, I'll do it too. What harm could it do?"

Atropos approached them, her knife held out. "This will hurt, as any unnatural severance will cause pain," she warned.

She came to Mel first and touched her face. Her knife flashed out, slashing at a cord of light that emanated from Mel. Mel let out a scream and collapsed. Her body vanished.

"What did you do to her?" Jem demanded.

"Nothing that did not need to be done," Atropos replied calmly. "Nothing that does not happen to all mortals."

She came to Jem and touched him. Her touch was like fire, hot and full of energy. He felt hollowness in his chest as light was drawn out from his body again. She slashed at the light. The moment her knife touched the light, Jem's vision went white and he felt nothing but pain. But he was cut loose from all that he knew and he felt free.

He travelled through time and space, eternity flashing before his eyes. He saw the stars and planets in the sky, the quiet beauty of a green meadow, the bustle of a busy city. He saw people all around, still living their lives safe and whole.

He saw bright light ahead and a figure waiting for him – Mel. This time, he knew what he had to do to fix his mistake. He and Mel had laid the path together and opened the door to the evil, but now, they would close it. He took Mel's hand and once again, walked through the doorway, right into the heart of the light.

'_I can give you all your heart's desire. I can make new this world. There will be no more pain and suffering and destruction._'

The Light seemed to speak to them, tempting them and pleading with them. But Jem was resolved. "There is nothing you can give us that we want or need," he said. "The door is now closed. Begone, demon! This is not your world and it never will be."

Light surrounded them and engulfed them. They burned a thousand times over and yet were still whole. Together, they fought the Light, forcing it back and out of the world.

Slowly but surely, the light dimmed, closing in upon itself until it became nothing more than a pinprick. Then, in one last burst of energy, it exploded like a supernova and dissipated away into nothing.

* * *

**Hope you liked that. Here are some images to go with the chapter:**  
**Tiny url dot com slash wasted land**  
**Tiny url dot com slash fate sisters**


	16. Full Circle

**Author's Note:**

**It is with a bittersweet feeling that I post this last chapter. Thank you, guys, for coming on this journey to hell and back with me, Jem and Mel. Special thanks goes to Hearts With Love for being so prompt and reviewing every chapter. *hugs* It's been great sharing it with you all.**

**I hope you enjoy this chapter. It's more like an epilogue really, to tie up loose ends. :) I have one last image to share for this chapter: tiny url dot com slash tree life painting**

* * *

_**16. Full Circle**_

Jem felt someone shaking him, cursing and desperately calling his name. He opened his eyes and found himself looking into the familiar face of his parabatai Will. He blinked, confused.

"James? You still with us?" Will asked. There was a touch of fear in his voice.

Jem struggled to sit up. "Yes, I… it would appear so." He paused and looked around him. He was on Blackfriars Bridge, his blood staining the pavement. "What happened?" he asked. "Where's Mel?"

"Who's Mel?" Will asked. "I should be asking you what happened. Really, James, I can't let you out of my sight. You get up to all sorts of trouble that way." Although his friend spoke casually, Jem detected an edge of tension in his tone, mixed with relief.

"Well, I'm glad you will be here to get me out of trouble then, William," Jem replied.

Will laughed, pulled Jem to his feet and slapped him on the back. "Come on then, time to go home."

Time passed. Jem met and fell in love with the warlock Tessa Gray but was not able to marry her as his yin fen addiction threatened to claim his life. He became a Silent Brother and spent over a hundred years entombed in darkness. In the 20th century though, after massive upheavals in the world, heavenly fire came and burned through him, cleansing him, healing him and releasing him from his imprisonment.

He returned to the world, and found his lover Tessa Gray still waiting for him. They finally married and had a child, born on Jem's birthday. The child was a girl whom he named Melissa, after the girl he had met years ago and had never forgotten.

The child Melissa grew up and Jem loved her dearly. But when she was nearly four years old, she suffered an injury while playing. Some older Nephilim children who were nearby tried to help and placed an iratze rune on her, forgetting that children so young could not be marked. By the time Jem heard his daughter's cries, the damage had been done.

The Silent Brothers examined Melissa's arm where she had been marked. The rune had burned her flesh and left a large scar. They determined that the girl was more warlock than Nephilim, and placing the rune had caused her to become Forsaken. They cast her out of the Shadowhunter society. Jem protested strongly against it but the Brothers stood firm. The girl was not one of them. In any case, the effect of the rune was such that she suffered seizures if she saw anything from the Shadow world.

Finally, after seeing his daughter suffering so much every time she saw him or Tessa, Jem was persuaded to send Melissa to live in the mundane world. He gave her his jade pendant shaped like a fist – the only memento he could give her. Then, they selected an orphanage and left the girl there.

Jem agonised over his decision every day for years afterwards. He would go and keep an eye on his daughter, taking care that she did not see him. It broke his heart to see her being shuttled from foster home to foster home, always being shunned and afraid because of the seizures, which the mundanes diagnosed as epilepsy. It seemed that she could not escape the Shadow world after all.

xxxxxxxxxx

_Tuesday, October 23, 2029_

Melissa was 16. She went walking along Blackfriars Bridge by herself at night, not wanting to go back to the foster family who did not like her and whom she did not like either. Unbeknownst to her, Jem was at the bridge too.

He spotted her and kept pace with her on the other side of the road. There she was, wearing that skimpy yellow camisole he remembered, her hair that outlandish blonde and blue colour. She strode along then paused in the middle of the bridge. She checked the traffic and then made to cross to the other side. As she kept an eye on traffic, she glanced at the pedestrians on the other side of the bridge and saw him.

Jem was horrified as he saw Melissa's eyes glaze over in the middle of the road and a seizure take hold. She stopped moving and a car hit her, causing her body to be thrown against another oncoming car. She fetched up against the windscreen of that second car and then rolled off, onto the road, and lay motionless.

Abandoning all care, Jem dashed towards her. A crowd began to gather around. Someone shouted that he was calling an ambulance. But Jem had eyes only on his daughter. He went to her and cradled her head gently. "Mel?" he called. "Mel, can you hear me? It's me, Jem."

He gripped her hand tightly and it seemed to him that she was gripping back. "You and me, Mel," he said as they rode in the ambulance together. "One last adventure, then it will be all right."

Jem sat with Mel when she was in a coma in the hospital. He noticed, to his amusement, that a modern painting of the Tree Of Life hung above her bed. There was a raven in the frame as well. It brought back memories of the two of them keeping vigil under the tree and the Valkyrie wishing them well.

Mel drifted in and out of consciousness for nine days. On the ninth day, she woke up and looked at him. "Jem?" she croaked.

Jem smiled broadly in relief. "Hey there," he said. "Welcome back."

She closed her eyes for a moment before opening it again. "I had the weirdest dream," she told him. "Where am I? What happened? You look different." She paused. "You're Jem, but you're not quite Jem, are you?"

"No," Jem said. "I'm not quite the same. The Jem you met in your dream – if we can even call it a dream – was me when I was younger. I woke up back in my time, 1877, and had to take the slow path to meet you. I'm sorry I could not be there for you sooner. But I'm here now and I'm going to take care of you."

"I know who you are," Mel said. "The weird Egyptian gods showed me. You're my dad, Jem. I finally found you."

Jem felt so much joy welling up in him that he could not help reaching out and pulling Mel into a huge hug. Mel burst into tears. "Don't go away again, ok?" she asked.

"I'm not going anywhere," Jem assured her. "Aren't we two halves of one whole? Didn't we literally go through hell together? Several times, in fact. Now, we have come full circle and found each other again. And we can only go forward from here."

_At last the mighty task is done;  
Resplendent in the western sun  
An honoured cause and nobly fought  
And that which they so bravely wrought,  
Now glorifies their deed.  
No selfish urge shall stain its life,  
Nor envy, greed, intrigue, nor strife,  
Nor false, ignoble creed.  
High overhead its lights shall gleam,  
Far, far below life's restless stream  
Unceasingly shall flow;  
For this was spun its lithe fine form,  
To fear not war, nor time, nor storm,  
For Fate had meant it so.  
- Joseph P. Strauss_

**_- THE END -_**


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